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<title>I always wanted me one with a mustache by hereticjellyzzzz</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24339838">I always wanted me one with a mustache</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/hereticjellyzzzz/pseuds/hereticjellyzzzz'>hereticjellyzzzz</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Song of Ice and Fire &amp; Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Attempted Murder, Child Neglect, Drowning, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kidnapping, Mentions of Jon Snow - Freeform, Non-Consensual Touching, OC, Parent-Child Relationship, Rare Pairings, Shireen Baratheon Lives, Stannis is death, Suicide Attempt, Wildling costumes, mentions of stannis baratheon, wife stealing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 07:20:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,080</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24339838</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/hereticjellyzzzz/pseuds/hereticjellyzzzz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>inspired by a quote found  on the wiki page of selyse.</p><p>Before her daughter is burned Selyse  has a moment of guilt and begs jons now to save her, shireen lives and goes with ser davos in exile. selyse stays in the north , mad with grief and guilt she jumps in a river but someone saves her.</p><p>A mix from show and books, originally I intended it to be smut but feelings happened and Tormund turned to a somewhat silent observer, I didn´t intended this to be something that selyse can use to express her grief, to be honest I don’t like her ..but hells she is messed up with all the miscarriages and well, in this I think she turns more vulnerable and hurt than I thought originally to portrait her.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Selyse Baratheon/Stannis Baratheon, Tormund Gianstbane/Selyse Baratheon, Tormund Gianstbane/Selyse Florent</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I always wanted me one with a mustache</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I know both selyse and tormund are a little oc but its the ways it appeared to me when writing</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She is  gasping for air on her knees in a dusty half rotten wooden floor. She can vagely hear someone -the man who pulled her of from the river- going to the other side of the room and fumbling with something .Her teeth clash horribly, her whole body is shivering with her dress drenched in half frozen mud and she can not feel her feet, her skirts cling to her legs and her hands are turning blue and in her mind she is going to die. . She is going to die from cold after giving her all to the god of light, to rhollor.</p><p> </p><p>She is going to die here in the frozen north. Forgotten and  despised,  with only a wildiling to witness the death of the queen of westeros.</p><p> </p><p> She laughs.  </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>My crown must be in the bottom of the river now, its fiery points encased in ice.  A mockery of my faith, of my life.</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>And laughs even if her teeth clash horribly and her whole body is shivering.</p><p> </p><p>She doesn’t hear the man’s groan of anger  nor the usless flint hitting the stone near the hearth. Her mind turns to her late husband, killed and flayed by  the bastard of Bolton. He never liked her nor loved her - nor anyone for the matter- but...</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>How could he ?.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>After all,  she was only able to give him stillbirth after another until their only child, a daughter caught greyscale. But he was a man of duty and never turned from his marriage vows to seek of the comfort in the arms of a whore, nor did he ever tried to annul their union. In spite of that, from all her failures, he when as far as crowning her himself when he claimed his birthright.  </p><p> </p><p>When the red woman arrived at dragonstone he embraced the lord of light as did she, but she knew he wasn’t a true believer. Not like her. Not when he was unyielding stone or iron. Never he knew about the warmth that r'hllor gave to his followers nor cared how much she desired it.  He always spurned her, rebuffing every unsure touch and  gesture  she was brave enough to offer. He only sought her bed twice a year at most, leaving her alone in dragonstone whenever he was in any other place.</p><p> </p><p>And she felt all of it, she always wanted warmth and never was graced with it.</p><p> </p><p>Not from her mother who died in childbirth when selyse was a child. Not from her father who did not care about  usless ugly daugthers. Not from her brothers nor cousins who looked at her as  strange awkward creature too unlike to them and too serious to bond with. Not from her husband who was more stone than man, who  gave her his duty and nothing more.  Not from the sons she lost and never  carried on her arms. And…. And… her only daught-</p><p> </p><p><em>No, her mind screams.</em> </p><p> </p><p>She would not allow herself to think of her…. her poor little girl, the one who loved her unconditionally and the one Selyse wanted  gone, because she was not a son, the one she tried to ….</p><p> </p><p>Her cheeks feel hot  and her fingers numb from their clutch to  her soaked skirts and  she cries and laughs and laughs and shakes her head when big rough hands pulls her to her feet.</p><p> </p><p>She is still crying and laughing remembering jons snow’s surprised face turning to hatred when she threw herself in front of his horse and begged to rescue shireen from the red woman, his sad grey eyes oozing disgust when she explained how the lady melissandre was able to take the princess.</p><p>She remembers lying on the cold floor of a cell for days, mad with guilt and grief until he returned with ser davos and her daughter. How her heart lifted when she knew shireen to be alive. And the the guilt crashing her again , feeling like she was being stonned by a mob. She is screaming again like how she did in those days and -</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>-splat-</em>
</p><p> </p><p>A slap to the face pulls her out of her trance of guilt reliving events.</p><p> </p><p>She stares wide eyed and open mouthed to the man in front of her, feeling like a rabbit trapped by a wolf, she sakes in trepidation and cold and takes in every detail she can.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>He is tall  like stannis was..  but that’s where all similarities end. His hair is red and abundant and his beard is wild, vibrant against the whites, greys and blacks of the north His green grey eyes are soft  and there is none of the disgust that was present in the members of the night watch and  northerner lords who knew what she did and selyse does not understand.</p><p> </p><p>But she knows that he knows, being jon snow’s right hand and being there when stark bastard returned and she looks down because she can remember shireen’s face when she-</p><p> </p><p>Her chest rise and falls rapidly but thick fingers grasp her chin firmly making her look at him. She doesn’t know who he is, apart from being a wildling, jon snow’s friend and be called Tormund but he is a big beast of a man, wide of shoulder and muscled like a an ox and she knows that his touch could be much harsh and the slap could have easily send her knocked out,sprawled to the floor with a broken skull.</p><p> </p><p>She had thought that the oblivion of death would be welcoming but its not , and  suddenly there is something that makes her pause.  His hand is caressing her cheek slowly, his calloused finger pads going to her nape  warming her scalp. She can feel his eyes on her  and she flinchs and  her icy hands go to grab his wrists but as hard as she is able but he doesn’t release his hold </p><p> </p><p>She is weeping  now, all the anger and hate and guilt had left her tired  and she wants nothing more for things to stop so she can-</p><p> </p><p>His thumb wipes a tear from face.  </p><p> </p><p>The gesture is foreign and selyse blinks owlishly, not remembering when someone last did it .</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>No one has done it before.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>She tenses but he keeps wiping all the tears from her cold face. His voice is deep and raspy,  he is saying something that she doesn’t understand and she is so tired  and her legs gave in but he keeps her upright with only an arm, like she weights no more than a cloak or a cat.</p><p> </p><p>He keeps speaking when he removes her soaked dress, his voice oddly sooting and her eyelids are heavy and she closes her eyes but his hands grasp her waist making her open her eyes.</p><p> </p><p>-'' The shift ''- he commands, already lifting it from the sides.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>But he is no abrupt nor cold nor like...</em>
</p><p> </p><p>She says nothing and the garment goes over her head and she is naked and barefoot and quivering. Her feet hurt and she wriggles her toes in an unconscious effort to make them no longer blue. She hears him curse and soon he is stripping.</p><p> </p><p>He turns to the side and quickly discard his furs, leaving only his britches. He retrieves a  patched cloak from his satchel  and throws it on her shoulders. She hugs it, enjoying the warm heaviness of the pelts.</p><p> </p><p>His hands quickly go to the cold flesh of belly and breasts , he rubs them  with energy making her flesh  ache.  In some corner of her mind, some half forgotten teaching of a septa long dead comes in, but the  impropriety of the situation  is barely registered and selyse doesn’t care anymore.</p><p> </p><p>Why would she ?.  R'hllor has turned his back on he. Melissandre has abandoned her to seek the true Azor Ahai .Her husband is dead. Her only daughter hates her  because  she tried to burn her on pyre to make the snows go away for stannis’s army.</p><p> </p><p>She is done caring.</p><p> </p><p>Her teeth chatters horribly  and he curses again and embraces her, engulfing her with his form. Tormund can feel the sharpness of her bones and the coldness of her skin when his arms go to her back . She burrows in his chest , laying on side of her face in his collarbone, her hands petting the russet chest hair.  He pats vigorously her arms and shoulders, leaving her slim muscles bruised but  warm so she stays in his embrace.</p><p> </p><p>His hands wander and he grabs her buttocks, kneading her flesh firmly and she gives a little shriek but he ignores it and  just keeps rubbing and rubbing until her skin is not longer cold. Then he extends his longs arms to grab her legs  and part them ... he does the same ,  his palms are big and coarse keep rubbing and rubbing. They  are sliding a dangerously close to her opening and selyse tenses, expecting him to unlace his pants and breach her.</p><p> </p><p>But he doesn’t .</p><p> </p><p>Selyse waits and waits and  transfers her weight from one foot to another and when he still doesn’t go to enter her  she looks  at him . </p><p> </p><p>He purses his lips concentration,   he is frowning  and  his eyes are hard and fixed in her body looking for any wound and selyse mistakes it for anger and goes stiff with fear, she scan his face but there is no leer nor smirk and while his touch is hard there is no wantoness, he doesn´t tease her teats nor her mound and as close as he is ,she can not feel any… hardness.</p><p> </p><p>She flushes and  is still tense but more confused than scared. The big man continues stroke her inner thights for a while and the moves to her chest again, cooping her breasts , grabbing them and squeezing them numerous times and later going over the skin of  her ribs and sternum.  </p><p> </p><p>She blushes and  clenchs her fists over his wide chest. She tries to curl her toes but her feet are so cold and she cant.</p><p> </p><p>He looks at her face and then gazes at her arms , legs and his expression relaxes somehow. She gapes at him while he touchs her face again, putting his palm in her forehead .</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>He grunts and say nothing .</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Tormund  takes her hands  in his and blows hot air in an effort to warm her up. He is puzzled when her light green eyes widen in fright and her shoulders get stiff and high as if she expected a hit to the face. He keeps his touch gentle  on her arms when she squirms and squerms so he  allows her to take a step back thinking  but then she  just fall. He catches her just before she hits her head with the floor and the cloak drops leaving her naked. Her eyes are closed now and for a moment he thinks her dead but she is breathing. He bundles her as best he can and starts rubbing her legs, belly chest and arms over the furs.  Her feet peeks out and when Tormund sees them , the tips of her toes and  heels are blue.</p><p> </p><p>Cursing that dammed crows  and highborn shits for leaving her here  alone without any help . He carries near the hearth and puts himself behind her to provide warm and strechs an arm to retrieve the discarded flinstone. He tries and tries until he gets a spark and keeps going even when her body goes stiff as a board and then shakes for a minute before going limp again and now he is not longer sure that she did not hit the rocks when she fell on the river</p><p> </p><p>The dammed fire is finally going and he ignores the bit of the cold in his arms and back. He rubs her arms  and chest with as much care as he can manage, afraid to hurt her anymore than she has hurt herself.</p><p> </p><p>He scoots closer to the hearth with the southron queen in his arms, swaddled like a babe. The queerness of the situation pass over his head and he huffs in anger</p><p> </p><p>its only luck that he had decide to visit the hovel where she lives, to see if she still trying to catch some glimpse of her daughter, the little girl with the stone in  her face. He knows the story, jon told him when he asked .</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>He remembers the red woman, taller than most men and strong  with her deep voice singing at the nightfires; her haunting presence always commanding attention. Many of his people -including himself for a while -had thought to steal her but after the burnings most had seen the madness in her, the absolute faith she has on her fire god  while her face was illuminated by the flames consumming a  man.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>An offering to the lord of light.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>What many  ignored was the woman beside her, pale and tall, she was thin beneath her fine dress. Her eyes stared in reverence at the flames but what was unsettling on the witch made this one  alluring, daunting.</p><p> </p><p>Since then she stuck on his head. He didn’t get it at first , she is  not beautiful and has big ears and thin face with some hair on her upper lip but truth be told he expected far worse from what he hear from snow and the other crows about the bearded lady, </p><p> </p><p>His eyes always followed wherever she went, though he maintained his distance since he bumped on her when walking past a corner. Her light green eyes were wide on her narrow face and she  had looked so scared when he crouched to help her stand. The blush on her cheeks when he touched the soft skin of her hand only lasted a second before she wrenched her hand free and stormed off.</p><p> He lost touch with her soon after . He knew southron women were different than the ones from the north, needless to say from the free folk women. The highborn  ones were   especially coddled soft things unable to care for themselves… althought she never looked soft nor helpless and she oddly matched the stannis man in an awful way… but  it was likely that she had died, especially after her husband death and that nasty business with ser davos and the little princess.</p><p> </p><p>So  he thought his eyes deceived him when he saw her on the outskirts of wintertown. Initially he assumed it was his own wish to see her again and make true of his word to jon snow  -. He decided  to ignore this lookalike beggar woman  and went to celebrate with his people.</p><p> </p><p>But time after time he returned to the place, always watching for something to confirm her identity.</p><p> </p><p>The day after the scandal in the courtyard he was  not longer doubtful and  went again, looking for her. She stumbled from her hovel  uncaring of the icy wind blowing harshly against them, suddenly her ratty cloak was carried off  leaving her long dark hair unbound and her face  bare.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>It was <em>her.</em></p><p> </p><p>Catching glimpses of a ghost was different than seeing in the flesh.</p><p> </p><p>Tormund stared amazed.</p><p> </p><p>She was alive . After all this months living in the wild without any comfort she was used to.. she survived. But she would not last much longer, with that flimsy moth eaten clothes when he himself can still feel the bite of the cold in his limbs beneath all his furs.</p><p> </p><p>It was just sheer luck and an idea popping on his brain that made him follow her. He  had traced his steps carefully so not to get lost in his pursuit,  carefully hiding his presence behind trees and shadows. After hours of following her, he made his mind to approach her an emerged behind her when she jumped on the river.</p><p> </p><p>An that’s how he ended here, with her warm and naked in his arms, although the not for the reason he planned for.</p><p> </p><p>He sighs and looks down to her face.</p><p> </p><p>She is sleeping now  and is calm after he managed to wake her up enough to make her drink from his horn. Fermented milk won´t do her much good but is better than nothing. Tormund will be not surprised if she didn’t eat anything these days, not when he counted her ribs.</p><p> </p><p>He can not take her to the castle. Attracting attention will be counterproductive especially if he can not keep her with him. Jon snow would not have her and he is not willing to push ser davos more than he already has. He still has a tent with the free folk who did not  get a place in the castle proper. He could take her there  and no one would bate an eyelid. It would be better to go on the morrow, Tormund thinks, he is not keen on taking his furs from her when she is so week and her dress is still wet , nor does he plans to go bare chested on the night.</p><p>But the townsfolk will notice and it would spread like fire that he is carrying a woman to his place. And it would reach winterfell in no time. </p><p> </p><p>He scowls at his options looking at the fire.</p><p> </p><p>Technically he has already stolen her. His people would consider her his wife and with that  he could keep her. He looks down at her.Her breathing is steady and she no longer shivers but her face is too pale and much, much thinner than the first time he saw her.</p><p> </p><p>He considers other things.</p><p> </p><p>She is as  tall as he  but reedy as he is wide and she is no spearwife nor warrior she-bear. She is  prideful, haughty  and her scorn for his  people is deep, Tormund remembers the let them die that jon snow told him about, trying to dissuade him from this madness. Its not even  likely she would give him any children when her long marriage has only produced a daughter, however It can be argued that the fact is owed as much to stannis as to her.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Twice a year, he thinks with a sneer.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>He is not having any illusions about her. Many, both free folk and southerners, would considerate them an disparate match, unsuited to each other but….. he still wants her.</p><p> </p><p>Damn, he wants her.</p><p> </p><p>And he would keep her. He smirks with she is in his hold, asleep and and content.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Well, I always wanted one with a moustache.</em>
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